Sticky Situations
by FlyingNymphLady
Summary: Peter's not exactly pleased with Isaac Lahey; the young pup still doesn't quite understand how strong a wolf's sense of smell can be.


A/N: Look what I've written again, yet another Pisaac fanfic. Are you guys sick of these yet? This is probably gonna be pretty fluffy to be honest. I'm just having an absolute ball writing for these two lately, they're giving me some awesome story ideas from just out of nowhere haha. Anyhow I should probably let you guys read the story now, I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or any associated characters. This is a work of pure fiction

Summary: Peter's not exactly pleased with Isaac Lahey; the young pup still doesn't quite understand how strong a wolf's sense of smell can be.

Special thanks to **AwesomeActress1001** and **Sass-Bot **for Betaing this story :)

_Sticky Situations by FlyingNymphLady_

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The Hale house creaked and groaned with Isaac's shifting weight, but he wasn't concerned. He'd walked across the living room floor too many times to bother sniffing out the rotted floorboards, his feet having memorized where every one of them was. He jumped back slightly as a drop of melted ice cream fell to the floor in front of him. Isaac groaned and turned around, heading back into the kitchen to grab a paper towel from the rack.

He continued on his way upstairs after wiping up the sticky mess, once again unaffected by the creaking of the floorboards. The upstairs rooms were surprisingly undamaged, considering the look of the downstairs of the house, but part of that was due to several summer days spent remodeling the house into something remotely livable. Isaac's room was once the guest bedroom, but he'd set up permanent residence in it until the pack had finished the downstairs rooms, which still needed to be redecorated (according to Lydia anyhow; she'd blockaded everyone from entering them until such time as she deemed them complete).

Isaac flopped onto his mattress with a grunt, his brain making the afterthought that perhaps taking the spoon out of his mouth first would have been more profitable to his cause. The thought was overtaken by the movie playing on Isaac's laptop, however, and he quickly re-immersed himself into an episode of his favorite TV show. When Isaac had first started living with the Hales, he'd been almost too shy to watch his shows while they were in the vicinity (werewolf hearing and all), afraid of being judged. However, his shyness had disappeared over the past few months, along with the constant nightmares and impulsive flinching.

It wasn't just the werewolves who had noticed this change in Isaac - kids at school were finally beginning to show some interest in him, engaging him in their conversations and inviting him to parties. Isaac knew this was partially due to his association with Erica, but he didn't mind. No one would be getting in with Erica unless she wanted it to happen. Boyd and Isaac were just her wingmen when and if she decided to use their services (though Erica had been using Boyd for other, more intimate services, the likes of which made Isaac shutter slightly. He liked to think of the three of them as wolf littermates, but the relationship between Boyd and Erica was anything but platonic).

From downstairs, a loud bellow reached Isaac's ears, like a gong sounding right in front of his face. Fumbling down the new steps, Isaac righted himself clumsily as he hit the main floor. _So much for the werewolf grace theory Stiles has been working on,_ he thought to himself.

"Isaac, you spilled ice cream on the floor." It wasn't a question, and yet Isaac nodded, admitting to the crime. Peter sighed at him, exasperated.

"I cleaned it up though; see, no more ice cream is on the floor," Isaac protested, slightly offended by the older man's look, his frustration strangely reminiscent of a parent teaching a child how to do simple tasks.

"If you'd bothered to take your nose out of that tub you have upstairs, you'd have noticed the smears of sugar still on the wood," Peter said, frowning and rolling his eyes. Isaac sniffed the air cautiously, grinning sheepishly as the smudges of sugar flashed brightly against the floor before him.

"Oops?" he said, smiling a little more to try and lighten the mood of things. Peter tilted his head to the side before shaking it in a heartened manner.

"Get over here," he said, motioning with his hand while turning around and heading for the kitchen cabinets behind him. Isaac's feet held him in place for a moment too long, and Peter looked at him with a questioning expression on his face. "Well?"

"Right, I'm coming." Isaac pushed back the nasty memories of his father's punishments as he walked across the floor, Peter's gaze watching him every step of the way. The manner in which Peter watched him was different from his father's cold, calculated stares, and Isaac took some odd comfort in that fact.

Once he was standing beside Peter, the young werewolf was slightly surprised by the cleaning products which were immediately tossed into his hands. Peter sighed and shook his head again, commenting on the younger wolf's highly inadequate senses. Isaac felt a bit slighted by the remark but didn't retaliate with a response, knowing full well the truth of the matter ringing from Peter's remarks. Boyd and Erica had almost gotten themselves killed when hunters had tricked them into believing another pack was howling nearby. The pair had barely survived the encounter with their own skill sets, and here Isaac was, unable to even recognize the scent of cleaning products before they were thrown in his face. He needed to learn to be more vigilant or he'd find himself a very dead werewolf.

"I expect that you can see this now," Peter said, turning abruptly beside the glowing mess, Isaac's senses finally hummed with recognition the way they should have the first time around. He nodded and bent down next to the pulsating residue, beginning to clean the offensive stains away. Suddenly, Peter's arm was aligned with his, his hand covering Isaac's attentively. Isaac's body froze and he stayed there, completely stock still.

Peter ignored Isaac's seemingly terrified pose and slowly began to move Isaac's hand in his own, pressing down into the wooden floor with more force than Isaac had been applying before. Almost inexplicably, Isaac's body began to unwind its tensed muscles, following Peter's steady motion. He could feel Peter's smirk against his shoulder as they swayed back and forth, slowly and steadily. Becoming invested in the rocking motion, Isaac almost cried out in dismay when Peter eventually stood and strode off to the sidelines to continue observing Isaac's cleaning process.

"You need to use more force when you scrub," Peter commented offhandedly as if nothing had just happened a few minutes ago. Isaac tried to brush the situation off as a mere teaching experience; absolutely nothing sexual had just happened between him and his Alpha's uncle. Absolutely nothing.

Isaac scrubbed the smudges ruthlessly for what seemed like a good fifteen minutes before Peter finally tapped his shoulder, bringing him out of the trance-like state he'd been in. Grateful to be done with this project, Isaac almost ran to the kitchen to get rid of the cleaning supplies. He finished shelving them as quickly as he possibly could and was at the sink in a heartbeat, now scrubbing at his hands furiously.

Once again, Isaac froze when he felt Peter's body press against his own. Isaac leaned into the sink to avoid the older man's body, but Peter simply followed him, his fingers sliding down Isaac's arms until they finally met his own fingers, intertwining with them gracefully. Isaac's heart rate sped up as Peter slowly began to move the soap over Isaac's hands, much slower than Isaac previously had been. On the back of his neck, Isaac could feel Peter's breath, the steady exhales ghosting across the younger beta's goosebumped flesh. Isaac attempted to focus on his hands, watching as Peter's own carefully massaged away the impurities upon his skin.

Isaac's mind began to stray from his hands, and he allowed himself to sense the solid wall that was Peter Hale behind him. The older beta had gently plastered himself against Isaac in order to reach his hands, but now Isaac could feel much more than Peter's hands on his body. _Peter's chest is almost as well formed as Derek's,_ Isaac's mind thought, though it also did note that the only way to be sure was through firsthand experience. Isaac let his mind wonder on its own, imagining what it would be like to touch Peter intimately, to slowly roll his shirt across the broad expanse of his well-chiseled stomach, throwing the offensive fabric far from sight in order to better appreciate the god-like skin before him.

He wondered what Peter must be like in bed, an animal barely tamed. Isaac scared himself thinking of all the deadly things Peter could do with his claws, tearing away at Isaac's flesh as he ravaged his body. His wild imagination would have possibly frightened him if Isaac wasn't so turned on by the thought of Peter's teeth sinking deeply into his flesh, drawing blood that would be quick to heal, but not before it spilled out onto the floor around them.

Isaac's fantasy was cut short by the abrupt departure of Peter's body from its hand washing duty. This time, Isaac couldn't hold back his cry of disappointment and almost took a step back when he heard the low, animalistic whine that followed it. Almost unwillingly, Isaac forced himself to turn around and face Peter, wondering how the older beta was going to react. There were two scenarios Isaac saw logically working out in his head; one: Peter tearing him limb from limb for his aroused scent, or two: Peter returning Isaac's feelings, and then following through with Isaac's earlier fantasy. What Isaac was not prepared for was Peter's nonchalant lean against the staircase, his arms folded casually across his chest, water still dripping from his fingertips. "You'll want to get back upstairs soon if you don't want that tub melting away on the floor."

Isaac's jaw would have dropped to the ground if he was a cartoon character. Of all the scenarios Isaac had worked out in his head, this was definitely not one of them. Grabbing a towel from its rung, Isaac dried his hands off, then placed it back where it belonged without taking his eyes off Peter's. For some reason, Isaac couldn't look away- no, he wouldn't look away and give in to Peter's wolf.

He felt his senses almost catching fire as he passed Peter on his journey toward the stairs. Rolling off of him in waves, the permeating scent of lust crashed down around Isaac, nearly causing him to stagger backwards. His head snapped back toward Peter so quickly he was sure he'd have whiplash, were he still human. Peter looked back at him, his eyes flashing blue as he grinned devilishly. "Your nose finally working?"

Isaac pounced onto Peter, his legs wrapping around the older man's waist as he kissed him feverishly, giving in to his most primal of desires. Peter responded actively, hoisting the boy up into a better position, his arms holding Isaac to him. Breaking away from the kiss, Peter nodded to the upstairs and asked, "Don't you want to get that tub before it melts?"

Isaac shook his head, nipping at Peter's collarbone, and huffed, "You'll just have to give me another cleaning lesson later."

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- End -

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**Reviews ****Appreciated**


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